


Quarantine

by Mars_McKie



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Comfort, NASA, Space Stations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 20:30:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12350145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/pseuds/Mars_McKie
Summary: John gets time to reflect while spending time in quarantine.





	Quarantine

The room was basic and starkly clinical. He had a bed, toilet, sink, shower and TV screen, activated using a tablet on his bedside table, but no windows onto the outside world. Each morning he put his towels and sheets from the previous day into the disposal and new ones would be posted through the slot in his door, sealed in a plastic vacuum bag and freshly steamed, untouched by any person before him. His meals were also posted through in this way, his diet strictly monitored and the food specially prepared. Even the water from the taps had that filtered taste to it and his air con was purified. There were very few buttons (touch screens were so much easier to wipe clean), and everything -even his clothes- was white so that he had to dim the lights or he would be blinded by the brightness of it all. The room was completely sealed to the outside world. This was his quarantine.

All of this might have seemed extreme, but there would be hell to pay if John took even so much as a cold up onto the International Space Station.

Every astronaut was prepared in this way- he’d had no physical contact with anyone for the past five days, took quarter daily cheek swabs to send to the labs to check for any culture growth that could indicate an illness developing, was monitored via the cameras in the TV, and it was down to him to keep his quarantine room clean with an endless supply of antibacterial hand wash and cleaning wipes. He wouldn’t have any physical contact with anyone else until he met his fellow astronauts as they made their way to their shuttle.

John was the first person to use this room and would be the last one to use it.

He was to be one of the last astronauts to go to the ISS, as the satellite was being slowly decommissioned to make way for the new Global One Space Station, currently being made and would be sent into orbit in a few years time to mark the hundred year anniversary of man first going to space. Ever since his father had bought him his first telescope and he’d seen -what he had previously believed to be a shooting star- the ISS falling by, he had dreamed of one day going up there.

Perhaps that was what bothered him most about this room- the fact that he wasn’t able to see the stars. But then again, John thought, he would be among them very soon.

He’d done all of the training, but that didn’t stop him from being excited and anxious in equal parts, though he was in no way bored. The TV would frequently patch through video calls from NASA, checking up on his status and wellbeing while making reports, and he had access to a number of channels, music and the internet for his entertainment, but he spent most of his time going over his plans for his work up on the ISS, swotting up on his Russian, and a half hour slot dedicated each morning to an episode of Stingray for good measure.

His work was a practical reconfiguration of the telecommunications research he had conducted for his dissertation whilst at Harvard. The updates would see the ISS through until the time it was finally shut down, and while up there he would be performing an analysis of the communications array already in place and performing necessary maintenance.

This would be his first time going up to the International Space Station and he wanted to make a good impression.

The NASA logo flashed up on the hologram comms system and John obligingly stepped into the view of the camera. “Receiving you,” he said.

“Tracy,” his commander popped up in hologram form before him. “How is everything?”

“All quiet, nothing to report,” John said with a quirk of a smile. What could he possibly have to report while in quarantine, unless his commander was that interested in the colour of his mucus?

“Excellent, glad to hear it,” the commander nodded. “If it is convenient for you, we’ve received some video messages from your family. Should we put them up on the screen?”

“What?” John blurted in surprise. “Yes, of course that’s alright.”

He had been told of this tradition by his father, but with everything else going on he had completely forgotten about it. The commander nodded and the hologram disappeared. John grabbed the tablet and turned up the volume of the TV, but instantly turned it down again in shock.

“HELLO! IS THIS THING ON? CAN YOU HEAR ME, JOHN?” John jumped a foot in the air as the voice of Grandma Tracy echoed around the room in 360 surround sound. She was wearing her favourite pink onesie and sat at the kitchen table in her Southern Californian home. An official off camera indicated to her that she didn’t need to shout. “Are you sure? OK, then. John, if you can hear me I just want you to know that we are all so proud of you and what you have achieved.”

She spoke to the camera in a long, slow tone, and after the initial shock died down John laughed at her obliviousness to modern technology.

“Virgil has done something to the TV which means I’ll be able to watch your launch on a channel, he’s left me instructions on how to do that,” Grandma reeled off. “I’ve got the whole neighbourhood coming round, and Farmer Potter's dug out the barbeque so we’ll be having burgers and sausages – oh! Those people at NASA wouldn’t let me send you any food, I hope they’re not starving you, but when you get back I’ll make a batch of cookies specially for you!”

John grimaced. He felt a surge of gratitude for his superiors, but also dread at the thought of having to eat even one of Grandma’s cookies on his return. Perhaps he could stay up in space permanently?

Grandma looked off into the distance as the person behind the camera spoke again. “OK, the man says I have to wrap this up now, so love you lots John! Now, do you boys want lunch before you head off?” she addressed the man behind the camera again and the video shut off quickly. John grinned. He might be safe in quarantine, but he was willing to bet there were several guys wandering around NASA with severe stomach cramps.

A few seconds of bad editing later and the video changed to show the campus of a European college with blue skies, green lawns and his foster sister Kayo sat in the foreground.

“Hi John,” she said with an easy smile. “I just want you to know that what you are doing is seriously cool, we’re all proud of you, and I’ll wave to you as you fly over campus! But only the first time you do- I know you said the ISS orbits the Earth several times in a day, and I don’t have time for all that waving, so... just the first night! Anyway, be seeing you in the skies soon. And if the other astronauts give you any problems, let me know and I’ll come up there and deal with them for you!”

She punched her fist into her palm and the video cut to black. John gave a small nod of satisfaction at her factually accurate farewell, though did wonder at her methods of how she could get up into space herself. He wouldn't put it past her.

In the next cut, he was looking at his own bedding. The stars and planets on the duvet were instantly recognisable. They had been taken from his bed and pegged up on the deck in front of the swimming pool on Tracy Island. John gave an indignant yell.

As he watched, his youngest brother Alan came into view. He had sprayed his hair orange in what was obviously meant to be an attempt to mimic John’s own, in addition to wearing one of his jackets. He had a plastic bowl on his head and bobbed his arms around, pretending to be in deep space.

“I am John Tracy,” he said in a bad attempt at John’s voice. “I come from the planet Earth to explore deepest space and make great discoveries!”

John stared on as the next oldest, Gordon, came into view wearing a pair of red speedos and covered from head to toe in green paint.

“Ooooh, I am an alien from the planet Olympia!” he boomed mystically. “I will eat you, puny Earth creature!”

Alan and Gordon grappled with each other for a minute until Alan tripped, fell backwards through John’s duvet and pulled them both into the pool. The camera ran over to them as they bobbed about, the duvet caught under them in the water. The cheap hair dye was leaking down Alan’s forehead and the green paint streaking across Gordon’s skin. They grinned up at the camera.

“Ack! We hope you enjoyed our little show, Johnny!” Gordon smiled.

“You’re going to be brilliant up there, John!” Alan chipped in. “Please bring me back a piece of the ISS!”

“I-is that for John?” came a voice out of shot and the camera spun to show Dad’s engineer Brains making his way down the steps to the pool. “H-hi John, just to let you know, I have checked over the specs for your shuttle next Wednesday, and it all seems to be in p-perfect order. Have a good flight, and we’ll all be watching on the TV.”

“We’ll see you in a few months,” yelled Gordon, and they all waved at the camera.

John put his head in his hand. This was exactly the kind of thing he was trying to escape from. At least being in space he would have more control over how often he got in touch with his family, and on his terms. Next all he had to do was find a way to take all of his stuff with him.

He sighed and looked up as the image cut to Virgil in his workshop at University in Denver.

“Hey John,” he said, looking for all parts like a model in an advert who had been pulled away at an opportune moment; he was wearing oily overalls and still had a spanner in his hand but his hair was perfect. “I want to let you know that we’re really amazed at you and what you’re doing, and did you really have to make it so hard to follow in your footsteps?” John laughed. “Anyway, we’ll all be watching you next Wednesday (even Grandma, if she follows the directions I left her!) and we all wish you the best of luck and hope you stay safe, godspeed, and love you big bro!”

The smile slipped off of John’s face and he stared at his feet. _Stay safe_. That was really out of his control. Here Virgil had hinted at what they were all thinking yet none of them wanted to address; getting to, working in, and coming back from space was a dangerous business. Sure, huge leaps had been made in the ninety or so years since man had first started to go into space; the odds of something going wrong on lift-off alone had decreased dramatically (he remembered his commander once telling him during training that back in the Noughties the odds of the shuttle exploding before it left the atmosphere were one in thirty-six), and Brains’ words offered some comfort, but the odds were still terrible compared to what normal people faced on a day-to-day basis.

He lifted his head and inhaled sharply. He definitely hadn’t expected to see Scott on this video, but there he was- stood in his USAF bomber jacket in the middle of the camp where he was based with his plane in the background. The image shook with the quality of an amateur cameraman.

“Hey bro,” Scott said with a small salute. “I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get a message to you, but Virge said NASA would be happy to add this in. So, here I am! Knowing you, you’re probably not nervous, more looking forward to getting up there already and getting on with work, so wishing you all the best. I won’t be able to watch on Wednesday, but I’ll wave as you go by, Starman!”

 _Starman_. A word weighted with meaning between them. As the video cut to black again, John let out a breath that he didn’t realise he’d been holding. For all his reassurances to his brothers that this was just like going out of town on a job for a few months, Scott was aware of the odds involved in space travel. Being a pilot in the USAF he faced similar odds everyday and he could relate to what John was doing. They had spoken for nights at a time and had helped John ease the rest of the family (particularly Alan) into this same realisation.

Of the two suggestions that had really helped, Scott had asked him what music John would want played at his funeral. Inspired by his love of old music and his resulting astronaut nickname, he had picked _Starman_ by David Bowie. Scott said at his funeral he wanted them to play the Theme from _Top Gun_. They’d both had a laugh at their music choices and John felt a weight lift from his chest. Finally, he’d spoken to one of his brothers about the possibility that he might not make it back.

The other suggestion was for them to hold a going-away party before he went into quarantine. This was more for the family’s benefit than John’s, as he’d spent the whole thing awkward in the spotlight (especially as Scott had gone back on duty, leaving him to face the music alone). It seemed to have done the trick though, giving the family some form of closure. And if/when he made it back... well, the party would only get bigger.

The final video cut in and here was the man that John most wished to see- His dad.

“Hello son,” said Jeff, his voice gravelly from too many Cuban cigars over recent years but his eyes wrinkled in a kind smile. He was sat behind his desk on Tracy Island, the sun across his face.

“It’s been a lot of hard work for you, but you’re almost there. If you’re having any kind of worries about going up there, remember what I told you- Humanity never got anywhere taking it easy. You show them what you’re made of, and check in when you can. Your old man still wants to hear from you!

“There’s nothing else I can say which your brothers haven’t already said, but know that I am truly proud of you and all that you have achieved, and I love you very much.”

Tears stung at the corners of John’s eyes now, but he held them back determinedly. When an eleven year old John had first told his father he wanted to be an astronaut just like him, his father had smiled sadly, knowing all of the dangers that being an astronaut entailed. They had spoken about it in great length over recent years and particularly what Jeff had experienced- how he had just married their mother Lucille, how when she informed him that she was pregnant with their first child he had nearly turned the space shuttle around then and there before she ordered him onwards, and on reaching Mars how the dust storm almost stopped them from landing, but Jeff had ploughed through anyway and became the first man to set foot on Mars. If nothing else, he’d said, it would be a great story to tell his child.

John thought of all of their conversations about whether it would be harder to leave behind or to be left behind and he could see his father's eyes shine sadly with memories of their mother. But his responses were always steadfast. His father’s determination to make the mission a success and return to his wife and child had got his team through, and he ensured some of this determination was passed on to each of his sons. John was glad his father had taken the time to prepare them properly in that way.

Moving from the bed, John took a deep breath and the tears vanished without being spilled. He wouldn’t allow himself to become contemplative this soon into the process of leaving Earth, though he would ask NASA to save him a copy of the video...

...To be found years later when he was on duty in Thunderbird 5. It had been a long day and he had finally succeeded in getting the hapless Langstrom Fischler and his crew off of his space station, passing them and their weather balloon over to the GDF. A sense of relief passed over him as all he could hear was the slight hum of his ‘Bird. No people invading his personal space. Flicking through a few files to calm himself down, he found the video file sandwiched in a folder of other unsorted home videos. Not remembering what it was, he pressed play. The tears that had been held back years ago fell freely now on seeing the recording of his missing dad again, and knowing that the words were as true now as when they had first been spoken.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching a programme on BBC called 'Astronauts: Do You Have What It Takes?' and they were speaking about the fact that astronauts spend time in quarantine before going up to the ISS and during that time they'd get videos from their friends and family. It made me think of John and what videos the Tracys might send for him <3


End file.
